The Proposal
by Ananke Adrasteia
Summary: A Riddle and a Prince unite against a common enemy. AU


**The Proposal**

"Eileen."

The girl stopped crying for a moment and looked up to see who the new arrival was.

"Tom." A shadow of a smile crossed her face. "What are you doing here? This is a girls' bathroom, you know."

"Yes, I know." Tom looked around, and added, "Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," using the name they had coined for the latest addition to the school ghosts' clique. "Where is Myrtle?"

"Off haunting Olive," Eileen smirked. "She is having the fun of the after-lifetime."

"Good," Tom said, and suddenly, his handsome face set into a hardened expression, the likes of which Eileen had never seen on it before. It scared her a bit, especially when Tom added, "We will need privacy."

Trying to keep her calm, she asked, "What for?"

"We need to talk, Eileen."

She moved away from him, just a bit. "What about?"

Tom looked at her for a moment, and then dropped, casually, a name – _the_ name. "Dumbledore."

She felt her eyes narrow of their own volition. "What of him?"

Tom was still looking her straight into the eyes. She felt uneasy, and broke the eye contact; it was then that Tom said quietly, "I will kill him."

Not _I plan to kill him_; not _I will try to kill him_. Simply _I will kill him_.

She admired his resolve.

"When Dippet dies, Dumbledore will take over," Tom continued. "He will make from this school even more of his private playground that it is now. He will control the education of the majority of Britain's wizard populace. What do you think will Slytherin's image be after just a generation of his propaganda? The House's, and–" Tom's voice broke momentarily, but soon, he picked up, "its Founder's?"

Eileen thought of the vision of the future Tom painted. It seemed bleak, indeed.

"Is _that_ why you will kill him, Tom?" she asked coldly. "And _not_ because he was the only teacher not susceptible to the charm of Slytherin's last Heir?"

Tom smiled. "I see no reason to affect self-righteous indignation, Eileen," he said. "Yes, I will kill him for personal reasons. And if you decide to help me, it will also be for personal reasons. I would not want it any other way."

She felt sudden anger swell within her. "What do you know of me?" she demanded.

Even Tom seemed to be startled by the intensity of her feelings. He eyed her for a moment, and then, shrugged. "Not much," he admitted, "I only know that there was a Muggle involved, and that you have no warm feelings towards the old friend of your family. Whatever actually happened is your affair – unless you want me to know, of course."

"He presumed to teach Tobias _manners_," she replied bitterly. "And he _taught_ him so thoroughly that Tobias did not want anything to do with me anymore. So, the Ministry Obliviated him, and now Tobias does not even recognise me–"

She looked at Tom; her black eyes glittered with hate. "Not that _you_ care, of course," she said.

"No," Tom replied with sobering frankness, "I do not. I do not care for Muggles. They may be a necessary evil, because the infusion of fresh blood is the only antidote to inbreeding," A strange shadow crossed his face, and Eileen wondered what that was about; but he quickly continued, "But I do not care for them. And, frankly, I do not care for your Muggle, or for your ordeal, either. You will not find me a very compassionate person, Eileen; but I am offering you a chance to avenge yourself, Tobias, and your idea of what might have been."

"To kill Dumbledore," she said. A smile crept onto her lips.

Tom also smiled. "To win over him, to discredit him, to reveal him as the manipulative self-righteous hypocrite that he is; to completely break him, and then, at last, to kill him."

Eileen was now openly grinning. "Sounds like a great plan."

"I will need allies to realise it, though," Tom suddenly grew serious.

"Ah, yes," Eileen looked at him, amused, "Now we come to the part where you tell me what you want of me in exchange for those brilliant prospects for the future."

"Mmm," Tom replied, "Will you marry me, Eileen?"

This startled her for a moment; but she retrieved her composure quickly. "Oh, you poor half-blood," she trilled mockingly, "Slughorn's contacts not enough for you? You must also have a pureblood wife?"

"It would be a great asset, yes," Tom replied. His eyes twinkled merrily. "But think of how handsome a husband you'll receive in return. Tell me the name of one girl in Hogwarts who would not be jealous of you–"

"Tom, I can tell you the names of several _boys_ who would be jealous of me," she flashed him a grin.

"So, you accept?"

"Yes," she replied without the slightest hesitation, "I do. As long as we understand each other: I will brook no adultery in my marriage – or, at least," she corrected herself, "no adultery that I will not be aware of. If there is the slightest trace of a scandal–"

"You need not worry," Tom replied, "I will not compromise my goals – _our_ goals – by having an _affair_." He said the last word with clear distaste. "I'm not _vulgar_."

She nodded. "Then, it is settled," she said, "We marry right out of school – we should really have something of a romance beforehand, you know–"

Tom grinned unpleasantly. "I'd love Dumbledore try to figure _that_ out," he said. Then, he snapped out of the moment of reverie. "In any case," he said, "first, it'll Potions, of course; then, the Slug Club– Can't you try to make yourself look a bit better, please?" he asked, with scientific, detached inquisitiveness.

Eileen laughed. "For my trophy husband? Of course. But my looks will improve as our acquaintance proceeds."

"Because love makes women look better, of course," he nodded. "Yes."

Suddenly, an unnerving idea overcame Eileen. "How will we disprove any potential Love Potion rumours?"

"Oh, I'll go to Slughorn myself and ask him for an antidote," Tom grinned. "Or, better, Rosier will go with me on account of my uncharacteristic behaviour–"

Eileen looked into Tom's merry eyes. It was good to finally find someone to talk with, she felt.

"All right," she said matter-of-factly, "Romance, marriage, then you become the Minister of Magic and we destroy Dumbledore. Is that it?"

"No. Not yet _half_ of it," he replied, "But it's a _start_."


End file.
